


The Big Board

by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anchors, Attraction, Awkward Flirting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Co-workers, Dating, Elections, Flirting, Gay Sex, M/M, News Media, Oral Sex, POV Bucky Barnes, Sex, Shy Steve Rogers, Stucky Bingo 2020, TV News, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/buckybarnesdeservestobehappy
Summary: Bucky Barnes, senior news anchor at SHIELD, is the most watched host on cable TV. Steve Rogers, nerdy stat guy extraordinaire, is the best guest on his show Bucky’s ever had. That’s why Bucky’s always pleased to go to work during an election cycle. Now, if he can only figure out how to channel his smooth, sexy TV persona into asking out the shy, blushing statistician, Bucky might get everything he wants.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 229
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2020





	The Big Board

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the1918](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1918/gifts).



> Title: The Big Board  
> Creator(s): buckybarnesdeservestobehappy  
> Card number: 022  
> Square filled: D5 New York  
> Rating: Explicit  
> Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Major Tags: news anchor, election, dating, co-workers, sex  
> Summary: Bucky Barnes, senior news anchor at SHIELD, is the most watched host on cable TV. Steve Rogers, nerdy stat guy extraordinaire, is the best guest on his show Bucky’s ever had. That’s why Bucky’s always pleased to go to work during an election cycle. Now, if he can only figure out how to channel his smooth, sexy TV persona into asking out the shy, blushing statistician, Bucky might get everything he wants.  
> Word count: ~6000

“Good evening. I’m Bucky Barnes, and this is SHIELD, first in cable news. It’s Tuesday. Only seven days till the election. You know the one. It’s got us all riled up. Can’t talk to family members without a fight and campaign ads that make us claw out our ears. Make it stop. And who can help us make sense of it all? None other than our election guru, master of the Big Board, and statistician extraordinaire. He does all sorts of math in his head that makes mine spin. Steve Rogers. Welcome. Tell us what you know.”

Steve grins and pushes his glasses up his nose. His dark blonde hair, unkempt as always, falls over his smooth brow, and his blue eyes sparkle behind thick lenses. Bucky grins back as Steve starts talking, nerdy and brilliant, overly enthusiastic as he explains the latest polls, what the race looks like in the swing states, and how the media’s in for the long haul on election night due to new options for mail-in ballots that created a massive stir in the conservative base. Bucky has already made plans for no sleep in the immediate aftermath of election day, and there’s every indication it’s the right choice.

Steve waves at the screen behind him, answering Bucky’s prompting questions and geeking out at the opportunity to do a sum in his head that would have felled mere mortals. The guy is brilliant. Truly. Bucky needs a calculator to figure out how to add ten and five together.

As Steve talks, Bucky allows his mind to wander a little. He isn’t surprised those thoughts drift across the studio to focus on Steve, who Bucky finds incredibly attractive. They’re both gay; he knows that. Steve came out almost a decade ago in a piece he wrote for a national publication, explaining how he’d discovered his sexuality over time and had to weave his understanding of himself into his own life.

Bucky’s out, too, but he hasn’t ever made such a declaration. He’s simply always been into men and doesn’t understand how that matters to anyone but the people he dates. He hasn’t ever hidden it since he came to grips with it himself. It had taken him a while to slough off societal pressure. He’d had a girlfriend in college, been married, and then quickly divorced when he’d realized she did nothing for him sexually. Since then, he’s been in a few serious relationships, but the latest one fizzled out several months ago. Since then, he’s been content to refocus on his career, leaving his former network and finding a new home. With that move comes new colleagues, and Bucky enjoys both the new friends and colleagues he’s gained and the eye candy Steve provides when he comes on the show. Despite the attraction, Bucky isn’t really looking for anyone new. He’s just fine on his own.

Steve pauses in his explanation, and Bucky asks a question immediately. “Tell us about Georgia. It’s voted red for as long as I can remember, anyway. What are the chances this year it flips and takes us all another way?”

“Well, that’s a good question, Buck. We’re seeing trends that Democrats have made major progress in the Atlanta suburbs and among African American voters after a decline in numbers the last cycle. In the midterms, Democrats gained seats in the House, and, remember. This is a big year. Both senate seats are open, too. If there’s enough push to get out the vote in large numbers, we could see Georgia painted blue for the first time in nearly four decades.”

“Steve Rogers. Brilliant. That’s why we pay you the big bucks.” Steve blushes, flustered and pleased at the compliment, and Bucky turns back to camera one. “Six days. Then all those annoying political ads stop, and we can all look forward to awkward conversations at Thanksgiving with everyone who voted the other way. Back soon. After the break.”

And they’re at commercial. Quickly, Bucky checks his phone and computer for breaking news, and his gaze flits over the upcoming stories. He’s overly aware of the production assistant complimenting Steve on his segment and taking the microphone now that he’s done. Bucky clocks him as he leaves his corner of the studio and smiles as Steve approaches.

“Thanks for having me on. I appreciate it, Buck.” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, making blonde tufts stick up, so that Bucky’s fingers twitch.

“Always a pleasure. My numbers spike during your segment every time. It’s good to have a Brainiac to give the viewers what they want.”

“I’m, uh… I’m sure they want to hear you, too. Most watched cable news host and all that,” Steve waves in Bucky’s general direction.

“Thirty seconds, Barnes,” his producer says in his earpiece, and he grimaces. Always a deadline on a news set. Talk about cockblocking. Not that he has that much trouble getting attention, but not always from someone so bashful and nerdy and adorable. Those thick black-rimmed glasses do stuff to him below the belt.

“I better get out of your way. See ya, pal.”

“Hopefully soon,” Bucky calls to his back and then turns back to the camera. He has a job to do.

“We’re back, and there’s news from the White House today that the new Sokovia Accords should be signed by this weekend. What does that mean for the markets?”

The broadcast goes off without a hitch. After all, Bucky is the very best at what he does. That’s why SHIELD poached him from his old network. HYDRA couldn’t compete with the promised new studio and higher salary. Besides, HYDRA’s statistician isn’t nearly as hot as Steve Rogers, nor is he gay. It seems a little bit like fate.

* * *

The newsroom is relatively quiet, which is quite a feat on any day. The fact that it’s only a few days before the presidential election means it’s a miracle. Bucky’s at his desk—not the one he sits behind during broadcasts, but the one where he spends most of his time at work. It’s there that he researches, plans, fact checks, and organizes the show. There are three screens on the surface which are surrounded by piles of papers filled with notes scrawled in his messy script. He’s deep in thought, attempting to figure out which story to use for the lead, when the hair on the back of his neck prickles. He’s no longer alone.

“If it isn’t the math darling of the network,” he says with a genuine smile. “How’s it going, Rogers?”

Steve shifts from one foot to the other before answering. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and then pulls one out to hitch his index finger through a belt loop. He’s got on his broadcast uniform. Steve’s signature look is the brick red pants he wears every single day with a white shirt and tie, usually some shade of blue. Bucky’s seen him carting around several pairs of those khakis at once, so he must have a slew of them. Why Steve chose a shade of red that looks like rust and dried blood mixed together, Bucky can’t guess, but he has to admit no one else has the same look as SHIELD’s statistician. It’s unique, for sure.

“It’s great. Good to see you. Just…you know.” Steve motions to the far end of the room where the Big Board waits, blank and empty. The desk he uses is covered with stacks of folders, papers spilling out, and a bevy of screens.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky responds, with a wave at the papers covering his own work surface. “The election cycle is always a mess.”

Steve’s eyes go fuzzy at the word election. Bucky can practically see his excitement as he babbles about polls and early voting statistics. He hasn’t breathed in about three minutes when he stops in the middle of a word and flushes.

“Sorry. I get carried away.”

“Enthusiasm looks good on you.”

Steve’s face turns bright red. He pushes his glasses up his nose and ducks his head. Stammering out excuses, he shuffles off to his workstation and buries himself in his work. Intrigued, Bucky considers him for several minutes before his producer saunters over and gives him a onceover.

“What’s your lead?” she asks, and Bucky flashes a rueful smile.

“Hello to you, too, Natasha. New haircut?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she chides crisply. “I asked about your lead.”

Bucky grins. Natasha’s tough as nails, but she’s a stellar producer. They’ve worked together in various jobs over the years and developed a close, trusting work relationship enough that they can call each other friends outside work, as well, which is why he knows he can tease her.

“I thought maybe we could go with the turkey factory. Big fire. Very flashy.”

“We’re four days from a presidential election, and you think turkeys are the way to go.”

“It’ll get people’s attention,” he says and blinks rapidly in an attempt to look as innocent as possible.

She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away. Calling over her shoulder, she says, “I have no idea why we pay you so damn much. I need the lead in five. Get on it.”

“Rumors of voter fraud in Texas.”

“I approve. Get the script written. We’ll move from that into Steve’s segment. He’s got some new numbers now that will fit right in.”

He can’t help but grin at the boon of having Steve on his show again today. It’s not necessarily a surprise since the election’s almost here, but Steve’s made the first week of November so much more enjoyable than it’s been in years past. Bucky works up the lead and prepares a few questions for his segue to Steve. If the banter is a little flirtatious—well, that’s not his fault, is it? If anyone calls him on it, he’ll remind him or her that gay men can be friends, too.

Bucky’s practically giddy by the time his show starts, and he broaches the lead with humor and the appropriate amount of severity to hook his audience and keep them hanging on his every word. He flashes smiles and smizes so his eyes twinkle and allows the audience to adore him. They always have, and he loves them for it. The show’s on the way to being a great one when Bucky throws it to Steve for his commentary. If he swoons a little, no one can prove it.

“Record numbers coming out of Harris County. Over a million people have voted already, and they’ve surpassed their 2016 numbers with one more day of early voting and election day to go,” Steve says while practically bouncing. “No evidence of fraud, but understandable why the number of votes gives some pause.”

“So, what can we expect? Is this the year Texas flips?”

Steve shrugs, and Bucky shifts to hide his body’s response. It’s absolutely unfair that a math nerd makes things ping in his chest. He’s a professional, dammit. He can’t be popping boners over election turnout numbers.

“We’ll find out on Tuesday, but the numbers look good.”

And his segment is over. Bucky shifts to the next story, but he has to work harder at it than he normally does. His mind keeps wandering to the other end of the studio where Steve works for a while before exiting behind the cameras. Bucky doesn’t want to examine why he feels so deflated. He’s still pouting a little when he pops in the break room before heading home. He’s halfway to the coffee machine before he realizes someone’s in the corner.

“Nice show today.” Steve’s sipping a coffee, and Bucky’s never been so jealous of a paper cup. Red lips cover the rim, and soft blue eyes smile at him. He’s in dangerous territory here, unsure whether to flirt or respond to Steve as a co-worker. He settles for neither, leaving the door open for both.

“Thanks,” he answers. “It’s always stronger when you’ve got a segment. Glad we could work you in so quickly.”

Steve’s pupils dilate, and Bucky’s heart leaps. He’d like to work Steve in immediately. So much. Maybe on the floor of this break room if he doesn’t stop licking his lips under a hooded stare that forces Bucky to repeat algebra formulas in his head to stay calm. Except math is sexy now. Nothing’s safe.

“You’re really good at what you do,” Steve says. He pushes up his glasses again and runs his hand through his hair so it’s delightfully mused, and Bucky takes a few steps toward him.

“You should see me when I’m really on.”

Steve swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, Bucky can see a hint of lust. He wants to make a move, but there are people just outside in the halls. He glances down at his hands and is surprised to see them shaking slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement.

“I think I’d like that.”

He almost does it. He really does, but Alexander Pierce, head of the SHIELD network, chooses that moment to visit the break room for what might be the first time since Bucky was hired. When his boss claps him on the back, he snaps his mouth shut and refuses to acknowledge the little smirk gracing Steve’s enticing red lips. He glances backward as Pierce leads him to his office for an unscheduled meeting, but Steve’s packed up and heading to the elevator. Bucky’ll have to wait until Monday to see him again. The weekend already seems interminable.

* * *

Election Night is torture, as is the rest of the week. Bucky isn’t sure, but it’s possible the entire country, and a few states in particular, are trying to kill him by dragging out reporting the results as slowly as possible. Steve’s obviously delighted, spinning numbers into stories that make the election fascinating to everyone but Bucky, who has to imagine really gross stuff to maintain his composure on set.

Steve doesn’t sleep, that much is obvious, and his eyes grow red and his hair wilder throughout the week. His mind is still sharp as a tack, though. The one time he’s forced to nap, more results pour in, and he has to spend an entire segment trying to figure out what he missed. He’s clearly not pleased by it, although Bucky finds him adorable when he’s flustered on Live TV.

“You ever going to ask him out, or are you just gonna pine from afar?” Natasha asks on Friday when they’ve finished their show for the week. He’s off over the weekend, unless it looks like the network will get a projection, and he’s ready for some time away from the office. He’s so wound up, he can barely function.

Bucky gives a lusty sigh, and his producer chuckles. “If I could figure out how to get a second alone with him when we’re not on air, I probably would. He’s slippery, that one. At least, he would be if I ever got him in bed with me.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said wryly. “For legal purposes.”

Bucky flushed. “Sorry. You were my friend before you became my boss.”

“Which is why I’m going to call a meeting on Monday after your show. You and Steve should be the last two in the room. Don’t squander it.”

Natasha strolls away with a smirk, leaving him with what feels like hope fluttering in his chest. He refuses to let it dampen when he spies Steve leaving the studio after Sam Wilson, the network’s war correspondent, stops by and pulls Steve into a full-body hug. He quashes the threat of jealousy and goes home. He has two full days to figure out how he’s going to ask Steve out on a date.

That turns out to be not nearly long enough because Bucky’s not ready on Monday—not in the morning, not during his prime time show, and not immediately after when Natasha calls him and Steve and various other journalists and production assistants into the boardroom and provides a rundown of expectations until the election results are certified in December and the new president is sworn in on January 20. Bucky tries to pay attention, but Steve looks really, really good, and it’s extremely difficult to keep his eyes to himself.

His producer’s true to her word as she dismisses production teams one by one until it’s only the three of them left in the room. Bucky glances over at Steve and gulps. Natasha gives some sort of instructions for them to figure out a way to keep Steve on air now that the election is over, and then she leaves them alone.

“How was your weekend?” Bucky blurts when it appears Steve’s about to leave the room. He hesitates at Bucky’s question and nods in acknowledgement.

“Fine. Didn’t do much. Spent most of it in bed.” When Bucky gulps, he continues. “Had to catch up on sleep.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course! You probably needed it.”

“Well, I guess—”

“Would you like to eat?” At Steve’s quirked eyebrow, Bucky babbles, “With me, that is. Us. Together. Eating.”

“Like lunch?”

Frantic, Bucky tries to get it together, but he has a hunch Steve is playing him a little bit. “No, like dinner. Sometime. Maybe Friday? Or Saturday if you’re too tired by the end of the work week. I don’t know if you’re seeing anyone or not, but if you’d like to have dinner together, I’d really like that. Maybe.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

Bucky’s face burns. He’s not used to being so off-kilter. He’s supposed to be the smooth one, the charmer the audience tunes in to see, and Steve’s the socially-awkward brilliant one who’s quirky and everyone wants to protect. How is Bucky messing this up so badly?

He stands and walks to the door of the boardroom where Steve’s waiting. “I’m sure I’d like to go to dinner with you. I just haven’t asked anyone out for a while. Not since… Well, not since my last relationship ended, and I’m doing a terrible job at it.”

Steve’s eyes sparkle, and he blinks behind his glasses. “You’re asking me out on a date?” he asks, seemingly incredulous at the turn of events.

Bucky nods, biting his lip nervously. He can’t remember the last time he felt as awkward as a teenager. “I am. Unless you’d rather just go as friends. If you’re uncomfortable with… Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Steve beams at him, his face glowing as the smile breaks wide across his face. He rakes his hand through his hair and entire sections stand up on end when he answers softly.

“I think I’d like to go on a date with you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s knees almost buckle with relief. Walking on air, he floats from the building and to his car. He knows he’ll spend the rest of the week obsessing about the upcoming date. Friday can’t come soon enough.

* * *

The first date goes great, as does the second. By the third, Bucky’s nervous. It’s obvious the chemistry is off the charts with them, and he’s not sure how soon he should ask Steve to come back to his apartment with him. Is it too soon? Would it be coming on too strong? How long is long enough to wait? Bucky’s not sure, but he’s beyond ready. He hasn’t been completely soft since Election Night, especially after the kiss that ended their second date. He had every interest in seeing where another one would lead.

“Bucky!” Steve calls as he rounds the corner and jogs awkwardly to greet him. “Sorry I’m late. I got a call from a friend out west, and I lost track of time.”

“No problem. Glad you’re here.”

They greet each other with a brief hug and a peck on the lips, and Bucky’s heart settles a little in his chest. Everything just feels right when they’re together, and that makes Bucky smile all the damn time. He’s a middle-aged man with a serious crush. It’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t so overwhelming.

They’re seated quickly—the perks of being a TV personality in New York—and Steve reaches over to hold Bucky’s hand once they’ve ordered. Steve rubs his thumb back and forth over Bucky’s knuckles, which makes Bucky wonder what he’d done in a former life to get so lucky.

“I read your book,” Bucky admits, his cheeks flushing light pink. “It’s brilliant, just like I knew it would be. You’re a great writer.”

Steve fidgets, attempting to suppress his pleased smile and failing spectacularly. “Not just obsessed with numbers. I’m a trained journalist, you know.”

“It shows. It really does. I enjoyed it a lot. Learned a lot, too. You have a way of making politics really sexy.”

“I’ll sign your copy,” Steve says in an attempt to deflect attention, but Bucky’s genuinely pleased by the offer.

“I expect it personalized.”

Steve chuckles and agrees. “That can probably be arranged. You know, I used to watch you when you were at HYDRA. I hate that network, but you were so good. You’re still good, but you had such a way of reporting breaking news that just sucks the audience in. And your sense of humor… You’re hilarious. I couldn’t believe it when I found out you were coming to SHIELD. I might have gone full fanboy at the news.”

Bucky can’t quell his grin as their food arrives. They eat and discuss things at the network easily. They share a dessert and turn down coffee for two fingers of bourbon. The smoky amber liquid melts over Bucky’s tongue and eases the tension. Suddenly, he knows with surety that it’s going to happen tonight.

“You’re different off camera,” Bucky muses. “I know that sounds strange because, of course, your public persona isn’t the same as when you’re in private, but you’re much more poised off camera than on. I like it.”

“I still get camera shy,” Steve admits. “It’s hard to forget there’s a massive audience out there tuning in every time I’m on TV. I get twitchy until I start talking and can lose myself in the statistics. I’m a little more take charge in person.”

“Take charge, huh?” Bucky’s voice goes smooth, and he bumps Steve’s thigh with his own. “Are you bossy?”

Steve’s eyes darken, and he sips his drink and licks a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. Bucky’s fascinated by it, by the moisture it leaves behind and the way he knows it’ll feel in his mouth when they’re finally alone.

“I can be. Do you like being bossed around?” Bucky nods, afraid his voice will crack if he tries to speak. “You like being manhandled a little? You want to be shoved into place and then take orders?”

“Yes,” he squeaks and coughs to cover. “I like bossing, too, honestly. I’m not that picky.”

“I like variety in a man. You gonna invite me home with you tonight?” Steve asks, his voice promising so much in the tone.

Bucky nods vigorously and signals for the check. He drops cash on the bill and gulps down the rest of his drink before holding out his hand for Steve to take. They’re on the street and in his car within two minutes. It’s torture keeping their hands to themselves as the driver winds around traffic to Bucky’s high rise, but he’s sure they won’t stop won’t they start. Neither of them need a sex tape to surface on the internet—not that his driver would do that to him. Still… They’re adult men. Surely, they can keep it in their pants for the ten-minute drive.

They scramble from the car and to the door, practically tripping over each other in their eagerness. The elevator seems to take forever to arrive, although it can’t be longer than thirty seconds. He stands on the far side of the compartment as the numbers light up one by one marking the ascent to Bucky’s floor.

Bucky unlocks his apartment door and ushers Steve through. He enters behind him, flicks on the hall light, and closes the door. He’s turning when Steve shoves him against the door and kisses him. Hard.

He smells good, like peppermint and fresh pencil shavings, and he tastes like Bucky’s favorite malt liquor that he only allows himself to pour every few months because it costs too much for more. Steve’s body is hard against him, and his lips and tongue and teeth are working magic as they devour him. Steve’s hands hold his waist firmly, and he grinds their hips together until Bucky emits a broken moan as his dick hardens against Steve’s length. For all Steve’s shyness at work, he’s in charge here.

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and opens his mouth for Steve to sweep inside. His head buzzes and mind swirls, unaware Steve’s unbuckling his pants until he’s palming Bucky’s cock through the cotton of his boxer briefs. Bucky can’t stop the sounds that pour from him. He hasn’t had to worry about being quiet for a long time, and he doesn’t intend to start now.

Steve breaks the kiss and slides down his body until he’s situated on his knees. Bucky’s struggling to breathe when Steve tugs on his pants, which fall into a puddle at his feet. Steve nuzzles into the dark thatch of hair between his legs, and Bucky almost chokes on his own tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses when Steve’s mouth closes over him. He’s fully erect now, and enveloped in the wet heat of Steve, tongue caressing, teeth grazing lightly along sensitive skin, and cheeks hollowed to suction him down. Stunned, Bucky threads his fingers through Steve’s hair and holds him in place, too high on endorphins to consider any consequences beyond an impending orgasm. It might happen way too fast if Steve doesn’t slow down.

Steve has to, though, because he’s amazing at sucking dick. Steve is sucking his cock. Steve is on his knees in the entryway of Bucky’s apartment with Bucky’s erection hitting the back of his throat. Bucky’s afraid to look down, and he almost comes on the spot at the sight of that red-lipped mouth stretched around him, blue eyes half-closed under sinfully long eyelashes.

Bucky tries to speak, but it comes out as a squeak. He tries to tell Steve to pull off. He tries to stop. He really does, but he can’t. Before he can warn Steve, he fucks into Steve’s mouth a dozen times and comes. He shakes through it, dumbfounded at how quickly and how hard he’s convulsing. He loosens his hold on Steve’s hair to allow him to pull back, but he just sucks harder, swallowing him down and drinking his release.

When he’s done, Bucky’s knees give way, and he slumps into a pool, knees splayed and bare ass on the cold floor. His deflating dick curls against his thigh, and his feet are tangled in his pants that caught on his shoes.

“God, I’m sorry,” he groans, but Steve shoots him a quizzical look.

“Why are you sorry? I thought that went pretty well.”

Bucky barks a laugh at Steve’s confusion. It’s disgustingly endearing. “I’m sorry I didn’t last longer. The last thing I want to do tonight is convince you I don’t have any stamina.”

“Oh, Bucky,” Steve drawls, “that’s not going to be a problem. I have plans for you.”

“Fu….”

Steve pops to his feet and hauls Bucky up with him. Bucky shuffles but trips over his pants, which are wrapped around his ankles. Steve sweeps him up and marches into the living room. Dumping Bucky unceremoniously on the couch, he kneels down in front of him and shoves a pillow under Bucky’s hips. He tugs a shoe off and disentangles Bucky’s right foot from the pants before shoving Steve’s legs up and ducking down to get his mouth on him again.

Bucky howls when Steve sucks one of his balls into his mouth. He can’t be this turned on again already, but his cock twitches with interest as Steve mouths at him. Steve spreads him open and nudges downward, licking and sucking, until he’s probing at puckered flesh with gusto.

“Steve, I can’t—” Steve mumbles an answer, too preoccupied to break away enough to form words. Instead, he focuses on taking Bucky apart, one swipe and lick and probe at a time.

Time slows down; Bucky sobs and begs and pleads; Steve sets up camp. What he’s doing with his mouth should be illegal in all fifty states and a number of counties, but it feels fucking amazing. Soon enough, fingers grope at him, easing him open, curling and hitting inside him. Tears stream down Bucky’s cheeks who’s unable to do anything but close his eyes and ride the wave. He’s high as a kite, and he wants more and more and more for as long as Steve gives it to him.

He’s hard and leaking again when Steve starts talking dirty. It’s the sexiest god damn thing Bucky’s ever heard, and he squirms at the lewdness falling from Steve’s mouth. He can’t comprehend how a statistician can be so filthy, but he’s grateful to be on the receiving end.

“Jesus!” he sputters when Steve whispers something so obscene, Bucky almost comes untouched.

“I can’t give you eternal life, but I can save you.”

“Christ,” Bucky mutters, entirely convinced he’s died and gone to Heaven. “Your mouth is…”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, relentless as he fingers Bucky open. “Good enough to get you to come on my fingers?”

“Shit, I can’t.”

“Not even if I ask you nicely to wrap your hand around your cock and give it a tug or two?”

“Steve,” he groans, too incoherent to try to mount an argument.

“I promise I’ll be really, really good to you if you mind me.”

Bucky’s too far gone to resist. When Steve guides Bucky’s hand to his dick, he grasps it and jerks. With the dirty things Steve’s saying in his ear, and the way Steve’s fingers curl inside him, Bucky doesn’t stand a chance. He whines in the back of his throat as his back bows. His bones dissolve into liquid, and he melts into the couch.

When he comes back to himself, Steve’s licking him clean, sweeping his tongue over Bucky’s spent cock, hand, and stomach. He makes low sounds in his throat like he thinks Bucky tastes better than anything in the world, and it’s the sexiest thing to know Steve enjoys his flavor.

“You okay?”

Bucky can barely answer. He’s euphoric is what he is, but poor Steve’s got to be uncomfortable. Bucky fumbles with clumsy hands, but Steve gets the point and crawls up to sit next to him on the couch.

“Why are your clothes still on?” he asks, his words slurring. “You should take them off. I bet you look really good naked.”

“You sound drunk,” Steve laughs and kisses him.

“Not drunk. Feel so good. You should feel good, too.”

“I do feel good,” he insists. “I love making you happy.”

“You should feel more good. Gooder. The goodest.” Bucky chuckles. “I say words for a living.”

“What kind of words do you want to say to me?”

Bucky hums and nudges into Steve’s hand where he’s running fingers through Bucky’s hair. “I’d say you should take me to bed or lose me forever.”

“Did you just quote _Top Gun_ to me?”

“Did it work?”

Steve’s eyes darken, and he nods. “Yeah, it did.”

“Then, no. That was totally my own pickup line.”

Steve chuckles and nudges Bucky to stand. “Come on, Maverick. Let’s get you to your bed. Where is it?”

Bucky stumbles down the hall, kicking off his other shoe and losing his pants on the way to the bedroom. He enters, shrugs off his jacket, and stands in his shirt and socks while Steve crowds up against him.

“Too many clothes,” Bucky protests. He fingers his buttons, finally stripping his shirt over his head and toeing off his socks, while Steve sheds his clothing. As his bare skin emerges, Bucky’s mouth drops open. “Wow.”

Steve blushes, suddenly bashful again, and shakes his head. “Nothing special. Not like when I’m at the Big Board.”

Bucky’s eyes drop to Steve’s crotch, and his eyes widen. “I beg to differ. The board’s not the only thing big. I need that in me, like yesterday.”

“Get on the bed,” Steve rasps. “Now.”

Bucky trips over his own feet as he lurches across the room. Steve climbs in behind him, pulling Bucky’s back against his chest and tugging Bucky’s leg up and ordering him to hold it at the knee. There’s the snick of a plastic bottle opening and a short squirt and fluid at his hole, and Bucky’s slick and open and prepared to beg for it if it doesn’t happen soon.

“You open wide enough for me, Buck? You think you can take all this?” Steve’s voice is low and dangerous. Bucky whimpers but bucks back against Steve’s hips, impatient for what’s coming. Steve grasps himself and holds Bucky’s hip to guide him where he needs to be. “Been wanting this since I met you.”

Bucky can’t breathe when Steve shoves in. He’s thick and hard and insistent as he fills Bucky up, and both shiver at the sensation. Bucky pulls him in with a rolling moan that might last for hours. He turns his head to find Steve’s lips, and their mouths join when Steve snaps his hips.

Bucky can’t remember the last time he got dicked down like this. He hasn’t been in control since they walked in the door, and he’s completely okay with that. Steve pounds into him from behind, and Bucky takes it, spread open and pliant. He can feel Steve’s thighs straining underneath him, and his abdominals rippling in the small of his back. Somehow, he’s half-hard again, and Steve grabs him to fondle and pull. Steve’s about to come apart. Bucky can tell from the way his rhythm falters, and his arms tighten their grip around Bucky’s chest.

“Buck,” Steve growls. “Buck, I’m— Oh, fuck!”

Steve loses it then, throbbing inside him, and Bucky’s vaguely aware that Steve had the wherewithal to put on a condom. Ashamed of his own apathy regarding sex safe, he’s reminded that Steve’s sweet, considerate, and bashful on top of being the sex god he’s turned out to be in the bedroom. And the living room. And the entryway. This man is everything, he realizes and sobs as another wave of heat rolls through him. Steve’s still jacking him off, and he’s gratified when a small rush of fluid spurts from his tip. That’s all he’s got, but he’ll gladly offer it up as an offering to Steve and the sex gods who gifted him with his talents.

They’re quiet for a while after. Breathing hard and floundering in a post-orgasmic haze. Steve made Bucky come three times. Three times in only a few hours, which Bucky can’t quite believe. He feels like he’s twenty again, instead of the very real…well, there’s no need to even think about that.

“I need a shower,” he announces before dissolving into laughter. “I need a shower and an IV. I’m so exhausted.”

Steve moves so that Bucky’s cradled against his chest and noses at Bucky’s hair, which is sweaty and plastered to his forehead. “Is it okay if I join you?”

“Please,” he blurts, “and stay. The night. Here. With me. You know, if you want.”

Steve’s lips find his, and Bucky can feel the smile there. “I want.”

And so does Bucky. He just hopes Steve will be there when his alarm goes off in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Following the 2020 election, [the1918](https://the1918.tumblr.com/) posted some very useful information about the results as well as some appreciation of Steve Kornacki, master of the big board on MSNBC and CNBC. My own personal interest in Shepard Smith, former news anchor at FOX News and current chief news anchor at CNBC, began back in late 1990s. I adore him, and I love the interaction these two men have on air. They both also happen to be gay. Also, check out [this interaction](https://twitter.com/thenewsoncnbc/status/1325964087814217730).
> 
> This story is in honor of tomorrow's election day in Georgia. Turn GA blue!


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